Contested Heart
by Onehorsetown
Summary: On the 19th birthday of Prince Eden Calloway, the kingdom if Illéa is buzzing with excitement because now is the time for 35 girls to be chosen to participate in the Selection, a competition for any girl of any caste to win the heart of the Prince and become a One, as the Princess of Illéa. Every girl is desperately hoping to be picked, except Adeline Fei.
1. Chapter 1

The letter sat there in the middle of the kitchen table like a chasm that ripped through the room. With every ticking second of still tension suffocating the air, I sank further and further into its dark void. My frustration churned tides in my stomach. Although the cycle of my hands swimming in the sink's cool froth provided some solace to fill the silence, my scowl only grew more contorted with each hostile stare prickling my back.

Clink.

Swish.

Scrape.

I cursed the speck of grime, furiously filing away at the blemish.

Scrape.

Swish.

Scrape.

_Clatter_.

"I'm not going to join some stupid competition full of hormone-crazed teenage girls just to win the heart of a spoiled Prince!" I flapped my arms out, flicking water droplets from the wet rag. Turning around, I caught the narrowed expressions of the twins and Beck.

Beck's tight scowl broke into a maddened fury, leaping off the sagging gray couch, and stomping towards the counter. I glared right into his deep brown, almost black eyes that always reminded me of polished obsidian. But instead of reflecting light and laughter, his irises shone with anger.

I didn't dare step back or cower away. Instead, I tilted my head up to meet his face only inches away now, and masked my alarm with an air of irritation. Setting the rag on the chipping linoleum counter, I crossed my arms across my chest, glowering as if to say, And what are you gonna do about that?

Beck opened his mouth, but then squeezed it shut with a huff, stepping back a foot away from me. Making an effort to calm his rage, Beck gazed at me with pleading eyes, speaking with his familiar comforting tone. "Adeline, please, just hear us out."

Beck took me by my shoulders, the callouses on his fingertips digging into my shoulder blades. He lowered his voice to a throaty whisper. "I know that you do want to enter the Selection, but don't want to leave Elaine and Eli. But you have to realize that they're almost 12 now, the age when _you_ were taking care of two twin toddlers and a sick mother. They're not little kids anymore, and they can take care of themselves. _I_ can take care of them."

My heart stung at the mention of my late mother. I masked a wince, but Beck knew me too well, wrapping his body around mine. His right hand rubbed circles in the small of my back. Nestling my face into his shoulder, I melted into his sturdy arms, a soft sigh escaping through my nostrils. My eyes wandered into the makeshift living room where the twins were pretending to focus on their studies. Tears threatened to spill down my face, but I hurriedly forced them to recede. Drawing in a deep breath, I gush the thoughts that have plagued me for the last week.

"They _are_ still little kids, and _I_ was still a little kid when my mother fell sick." I shuttered at the quaver in my voice, drawing strength to whisper my last plea. "I just don't want them to go through that. They deserve more."

"_You_ deserved more than that," Beck said, untangling himself. "And if you enter the Selection, you'll give them a chance at something even better than they could have imagined."

I scoffed, turning back to the disarray of dishes. "That's only if I win, Beckett. And the money doesn't even come in if I don't make it to the 35 that go to the palace."

"Hey, if you don't try, you'll never know." Beck winked, falling into familiar routine beside me. "And don't worry; with that stubborn mind and pretty face of yours, the Prince will be throwing himself at you in a heartbeat."

I chuckled. "The killer combo, I hear."

Beck peered at me out of the corner of his eyes, their color now melting into a chocolate brown in the glow of the fluorescent lights. His voice spoke of the steady fondness that I had grown to treasure.

"Definitely."

* * *

Gripping the letter in one hand, and a bundle of cookies in the other, I tiptoed through the forest that lined the edge of the province. Pressing against the rough scales of the tree trunks, I hopped between the footholds of their roots, grateful for the chirping of the crickets to mask the soft rustling of my movements. After navigating through the thicket of foliage, the dense web of branches parted to reveal a nicely manicured backyard. I smiled longingly at the threads of light that rippled across the surface of the pool.

Those were simpler times.

I ducked behind the patio furniture, keeping an eye out for wandering neighbors. Once I reached the left window, I thumped on the glass, triggering a flicker of light from the bedroom. Catching a glimpse of my crouching form beside the bush, the girl lifted the window open with a soft whoosh. Climbing inside, I almost knocked over a vase on her nightstand. I burst into a fit of laughter. "I guess I'm not the graceful dancer I used to be."

I looked up at her ever-radiant face, her eyes now crinkled at the corners with fondness. "You're so lucky that my parents aren't home, Addy."

What remained of my ability to breathe mustered a heaving snort. I grimaced, mumbling through a breathy cough. "I haven't heard anyone call me Addy since I was a Five."

A vague sense of longing tugged at my heart, even though it was a long time since I had thought about it last. I was grateful for being able to climb up two caste levels to Sixes, but the regret of dragging my family down to Eights still lingered in my mind.

Picking myself off the carpeted floor, my hands ran down the wrinkles of my canvas t-shirt and khaki pants. I jut my chin up, dismissing any grief that strained my heart.

"My God, and how long ago was that?" Her giggle trailed off in a distracted silence. A faraway nostalgic expression softened her bright blue eyes like a haze of wispy clouds floating in the morning sky.

I sighed.

"Seven years ago, when we were twelve."

Her plush down comforter enveloped me as I plopped down on her queen-sized bed. Through slitted, sleepy eyes, I watched her saunter towards the bookshelf opposite the bed, and pick up a small picture frame from the middle shelf.

"We were quite a team back then."

I sat up from my relaxed position and balanced myself on the foot of her bed. Taking the picture from her hands, I gingerly wiped off a bit of dust from the glass. The film of grime lifted to reveal the picturesque portrait of two little ballerinas dressed in blush leotards and matching tutus. Her younger self had her arm draped across my shoulders, while I had mine around her waist. I smiled wistfully at the scene. "You still have the photo from the recital."

I read the engraving on the frame.

_Adele and Amelia September 19th, 2128_

I glanced between the picture and Amelia. My eyes flickered at the startling difference between the two images. Throughout the eight years, her bright gold frizzy mane had dissolved into glamorous loose curls. They framed her now striking face. Gone was the baby fat, revealing sculpted cheekbones and an alluringly curvy, yet slim figure. She was a force to be reckoned with.

Amelia could have been a model, if she wasn't born a Three. Her family had the money to buy her way up the caste system to a Two, but her parents had no business as celebrities. They were devoted in their work as dance teachers. The best dance teachers.

"Have you still been practicing ballet, Ad?" Amelia inquired as I set the photo back on the shelf. "Mom always wonders about her best student."

"When I have time," I tried to keep my tone light, but anguish still tainted my voice.

She dipped her head down, a limp frown displaying the dimple that tailed the corner of her mouth. "It must be hard as a Six. I could never do laborious housework all day."

I shrugged.

"I've been worse."

Even though she turned around to lay on her bed, I still caught the look of pity that flashed on her face, probably remembering the couple years that I had been an Eight.

Starving.

Homeless.

Lowestest of the low.

I shook my head. "But I didn't come here to talk about that."

I picked up the letter and the cookies from the floor as I made my way to her bed. "I have presents." The corner of my lips lifted in a playful smirk as I hid the items behind my back. "One of them is delicious and the other will cause you misery for the rest of your life. Choose one."

Her dimple reappeared, her mouth now upturned in an impish smile. Amelia maneuvered behind me and snatched the bundle of cookies. Unwrapping the paper napkin, she threw me one and shoved the other into her mouth.

"Chocolate chip. My favorite," She mumbled, her mouth full of food.

I grinned, tossing the letter into her lap. "I stole some of Beck's extra stash to cushion the bad news."

"I can't tell you how lucky you are to have an amazing chef around."

"A chef's servant, technically," I corrected.

Amelia glanced down at the letter, her face immediately brightening.

"My, my. Now this doesn't look like bad news at all. If I'm not mistaken, this looks like an invitation to the Selection!"

"Yeah, yeah. Don't get too excited, Ames. Every girl in Illéa ages 16 through 20 gets one."

"I know, I got one too!" She squealed. "Are you going to apply? You have to apply, Ad."

"I..."

I thought back to my outburst just a few hours ago.

"I don't know."

"Ad, you're not going to tell me that you're not going to apply just because the twins need a maternal figure in their life. I thought Beck would knock some sense into you by now."

"It's not just that, Ames." I lowered my voice even though we were the only ones in the house. "What if they find out?"

Her face contorted in confusion, but then realization dawned on her. "Ad, you look completely different from when you were twelve. I can even give you some makeup and one of my dresses, and you'll look like a new person!" Amelia smiled, trying to lighten the mood, but she quickly reverted back to her hushed voice. "And you changed your name years ago, anyway."

I stared off out the window, lost in thought. My stomach knotted at the possibility that I could be caught. It seemed like I was finally out of their reach after seven years of hiding. The Selection could shatter everything. For both me and my family.

The twins. Beck. I couldn't drag them into all this. The twins were only four when we ran, and Beck started living with us only a few years ago.

They didn't know. They couldn't know. I wouldn't allow it.

But no matter how consumed with worry I was, a nagging prospect still tugged at my brain. There was always a solicitude in my conscience that I was not providing enough for my family. This could have been the opportunity to give them a chance at anything they ever wanted. Elaine could become the ballerina I knew she always wanted to, as a Five, and Eli would be able to buy his way up to become a politician, as a Two.

And, even though I hated even admitting it to myself, some part of me dreamed about living in the lap of luxury for even a day, swathed in luscious fabrics and adorned with glittering jewels.

My jumbled thoughts solidified into one question.

_Could I risk everything that I had built for us?_


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thank you to anybody who is following this story! I really appreciate that you are taking your time to read this.**

**Special thanks to WinteryRose for reviewing and giving feedback on my story! I've been reading her Selection fanfic, and it's really good, so you should really check her out if you like Selection fanfics (which obviously you do since you're reading my story haha)!**

**The next couple chapters will parallel to the original Selection because it's just the routine start of the competition, but no worries, this story will branch off into it's own path really soon, so just stick through it! Thank you again :)**

* * *

The Friday evening after I handed in my application, I walked hand in hand with the twins and Beck to the local convenience store to watch the weekly news report. Even hours before the Report would begin, there would always be a crowd of Eights, and even some Sixes and Sevens without televisions, gathering at the location in anticipation for the news.

Or rather I suspect, for Gavril Fadaye.

The entire country had an unhealthy obsession with the television host. Even Elaine forced us to watch the Report every Friday night to fawn over his chiseled features and messily tousled hair, which, in my opinion, weren't that endearing, considering that he wasn't as young as he used to be.

So, the four of us squeezed into the back corner of the store a few minutes before the program started, craning our necks to view the small screen over the product shelves. Around us, familiar acquaintances greeted us with gracious smiles, and I nodded my head at them in awknowledgemnt.

Soon enough, the display lit up with the Illéan emblem, and we all rose to recite the pledge.

"I pledge of allegiance to kingdom of Illéa, under the just rule of King Carson Calloway, and to serve as a dutiful citizen, defending and protecting my country against all evils that threaten its laws."

I always puckered at the bitter taste in my mouth whenever I repeated the pledge.

I sat back down, zoning in and out of the monotonous words that were projected from the TV. It was all the same every week anyway; there was a new development in the agricultural field that will hopefully produce better crop yields this year; the King was initiating a new program that was expected to boost the economy; there was a New-Asian victory in a naval battle in the Pacific, but we were recuperating for a counter-attack...

All damn lies.

But there was one report that caught my attention.

"Earlier this week, there was a rebel attack at the palace. They managed to breach our outermost protective walls, but our valiant guards managed to push them back before they infiltrated the castle. The death count for this attack was at 17 guards and three servants, while another ten guards and two servants were injured."

I sucked in a sharp breath.

The attacks were happening much more frequently now, almost once a month. And the death count kept on raising every time.

A stew of fear and frustration churned in my stomach.

I glared at the ground, cursing the fact that none of the politicians in Illéa were competent enough to devise a strategy to stop the rebels. If they kept advancing at this rate, the country would be in chaos in a year, at the longest. Of course, I hated the way that the country was ran now, but it sure beat absolute anarchy.

Trust me, I experienced it first hand.

My thoughts were interrupted by the ever-cheerful prattle of the one and only, Gavril Fadaye.

"Good evening, Illéa. I hope you didn't miss me from last week." He winked and flashed a lustrous smile at the camera, cuing a collection of dreamy sighs from the adolescent girls in the room. I rolled my eyes.

"I am excited to tell you that tonight's program is going to be very special indeed," He continued in his slightly-irritating announcer voice that resembled the prattle parents would coo to their toddler.

"As you all know, Prince Eden turned 19 just a couple weeks ago, so he is finally of age to host the Selection!"

Excited glances flew across the store.

Everyone sat on the edge of their seats, keen on every word that Gravril spoke as he continued. "And for those of you who don't know, the Selection was a competition started by none other than our beloved founder, Gregory Illéa, as an opportunity for any girl in Illéa to compete for the Prince's hand in marriage and become our next Princess. Over the course of the past couple weeks, thousands of girls have mailed in their applications, and our King and his advisors have poured over every application to choose one girl from every province to compete in the Selection!"

My breath hitched.

Although I knew better than to keep my hopes up, I was tense with anticipation.

"Now, Prince Eden, did you sneak a peek at the girls that were chosen?" Gavril hinted jokingly.

The camera panned to where the Prince and his parents were sitting. "No, my father and his advisors have kept everything very secretive, so I'll be seeing these girls for the first time with all of you." The Prince spoke with mannered civility, but underneath his composure, I noticed the fidgeting of his hands in his lap.

"Well, guilty as charged, I was not able to contain my excitement as well as the Prince. And from what I've seen from the applications, Prince Eden will have his hands full with choosing only one of these lovely ladies to marry."

The attention was now on the cards that Gavril held in his hands. He cleared his throat. "I know you're all dying to see these ladies, so I won't keep you waiting any longer." He paused for dramatic effect. "The people of Illéa, may I present to you, the Selected!"

The television flashed to a split-screen of the prince's face, and a picture of a girl a year or two younger than me, with strawberry blonde locks and an innocent, bright smile as large as the moon.

"Miss Poppy Foster of Whites, Four."

The Prince held a polite grin as the photos flashed on the screen.

"Miss Lucia Chelimo of Ottaro, Two."

The picture switched to the image of captivating girl with glowing tan skin, and thick, jet black hair that fell to one side, framing the deep V-neck of her red gown. I would have guessed that she was around my age, but her dispostion spoke of an experienced, magnetic confidence with her seductive smile, and the mischievous glint in her oxyx eyes.

I glanced to the left side of the screen to see the Prince's reaction. Sure enough, his previously passive azure eyes glimmered with a bit of intrigue, even though he was trying to keep his expression the same.

Shifting my focus back to the pictures of the Selected, I caught the portrait of a familiar face.

"Miss Amelia Aline of Clermont, Three."

I hardly suppressed a surge of elation that swelled in my chest at the sight of my long time friend. A tight-lipped grin stretched across my face and my eyes grew wide with pride.

Out of the corner of my eye, I even noted that the Prince took much interest in her.

She was going to win; I knew it.

My expression faltered with the next image.

"Miss Adeline Fei of Lakedon, Six."

The store erupted with cheers.

I froze in my position, mouth agape. My eyes grew to the size of saucers.

I was scarcely aware that people were shouting my name with congratulations. I just stared at the split-second image of my sheepish smile and blushing face, and replayed the announcement of my name in my head.

Adeline Fei.

That was me.

No duh.

I knew I couldn't have been mistaken, but a hazy feeling of surreality still launched me into a stupor. My concious somewhat registered people throwing their arms around me in praise, but the only thought that my brain conjured was that I actually made it to the Selection.

I actually had the oppurtunity to gain the money needed for my family.

Me.

And while weaving my way through the mass of open arms and pats on my back on my way home that night, the same thought coursed through my mind:

Anything was possible now.

But of course, possibilities always came with a condition.

* * *

"If I have to see one more damn palace official, I think I might just die of paperwork exhaustion," I growled as doorbell rang for the millionth time that week.

Beck found my frustration highly amusing, smiling coyly from behind the newspaper. "I think I should get the door before you rip the poor man's head off."

I shot him a sarcastic sneer as I followed him to the front door.

"Hello, I'm Mr. Beckett Hawthorne," He greeted graciously when the door opened, dipping into a bow. I rolled my eyes. He was acting like he was the one competing for the throne. "And what do I owe for this acquaintance?"

The scrawny, brusque man excused himself into the house, knocking past Beckett and me. "I'm here for the Selected girl," He grumbled. The way he sneered set wrinkles even on top of his head where whitish-gray wisps of hair receded.

My body stiffened.

Beckett placed an protective arm in front of me, but I reassured him by setting my hand on his shoulder. "I'm sure he means for the paperwork. Please, follow me."

With my arms still clasped in front of me tensely, I led the man to the kitchen table and motioned for him to sit across from me; not that he acknowledged the gesture. Beckett took his usual seat to the right of me.

"I'm here to discuss the rules for the Selection, before you take your plane tomorrow. I assume you have your ticket?"

I nodded once.

"Okay, it seems like your health is on track from the doctor's note we have here," The man spread out a stack of papers across the table. "except you're malnourished, but that is expected from a Six. And the palace will take care of your nutrition during the Selection, anyway."

He moved onto the next page which was my application form. "And it is important to know that from the moment that you were chosen as a Selected, up until your elimination, you are considered the property of the Prince. You signed that you agreed to this on the application form."

I glanced down at the paper, vaguely remembering reading that.

"That means that the Prince, and only the Prince can grant you permission to leave the competition, and you are not to leave the palace without his grace. Of course, if you fight or sabotage any of the other Selected, you are on the grounds of immediate expulsion, except at his Highness's instructions not to." His scratchy voice drawled out with weariness. "Secondly, the Prince is in charge of arranging all dates. You cannot seek him out, unless it's in a public social setting."

The man looked up at me to see if I was paying attention, so I nodded tersely, motioning him to continue.

"Thirdly, if you are caught being in a romantic relationship with anyone other than the Prince during the Selection, you are to be tried with treason, which can be punishable by death."

He eyed Beckett warily.

I perched up in my seat, waving my hands in front of me. "No, it's not like that; we're practically siblings."

"Yeah, we have no romantic feelings for each other. She took me in when we were fifteen, because I didn't have anywhere to go," Beck supplemented.

The man still watched Beck, but then proceeded to push the papers towards me. "Now you need to sign these, saying that you understand these rules."

As I scribbled across the multitude of papers, the man continued.

"In the event that you make it to the top ten girls of the Selection, you will be considered an Elite, which means you'll be part of the Two caste. And if the Prince actually picks you to be his wife, you and your entire family will be considered Ones and live in the castle. However, the most probable outcome is that you won't make it nearly that far, but from now on, you will be promoted to be a Three."

I stopped writing, staring up at him with wide eyes.

"Only you, not your family," He clarified. "In the past, we have found that the girls that go back to castes lower than Three had a hard time readjusting to their previous lifestyle, so the King agreed to promote all of you to Threes."

I tilted my head to glance at Beck, and saw in his eyes the same hopefulness that surged in my chest. My heart quickened with exhilaration.

"And now that you're done with the signatures, here is your first check." The man handed over a slip of paper. "You will be getting these monthly."

I gingerly pinched the edges of the check as if it were precious. And in fact, it was. Gaping at the sheet of paper in my hands, my eyes welled up with tears.

"I'll be on my way, then."

When the man got up to leave, I completely forgot my manners, throwing myself into Beck's arms and sobbing into his chest. He wrapped me in a strong embrace, tightening his arms with every muffled hiccup of tears. In the warm envelope of his body, an intense surge of optimism swelled throughout my body with the now feasible prospect of a new beginning.

More than anything I have ever dreamed of was laying right on that table. I could have left the competition as early as the next day, and I would still have the life that I have always planned for us.

* * *

**P.S. I would really appreciate it if you left an honest review to my story. Doesn't have to be positive; I want to improve! **

**Well I'll hopefully see you next chapter?**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: THE ONE CAME OUT YESTERDAY! I'm not allowed to preorder, so I have to wait till the weekend to buy the book but I'm so excited. Can't you tell? Haha**

**Anyways, I wanted to put this out yesterday but I literally did not get to use the computer for one minute yesterday because my brother was playing minecraft -.- **

**We'll call this a late celebration gift ;)**

**Also, THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR SUPPORT!**

**Thank you 30secondstoinfinity and EmilyTheNerd for favoriting the story, and insertusernamehere27 and ilona18 for following! Now for the reviews:**

**Guest mih- Thank you so much! And I'm sure you have great potential for writing.**

**Lily- Thank you! I'm curious to know what you'll think will happen next, or what you want to happen next. I hope you continue to follow my story!**

**ilona18- I'm really looking forward to a long review, so feel free to anytime!**

**EmilyTheNerd- Thank you for saying that! And I wish I could write a real novel, but until then, I'll just stick to fanfiction ;) Hope I'll see you in future chapters!**

**Enjoy!**

**P.S. The beginning of this chapter may seem redundant for those who have read the books, but I wanted to keep this story as authentic as possible so I'm adding all the necessary information needed to understand the plot.**

* * *

The next morning, a trickle of a curious aroma lulled me awake, pleasantly arousing my senses to take in all of my surroundings. Still a bit dazed from the first full sleep I've had in a long time, the bright radiance of the sun's rays stroked my face with a satisfying warmth, slowly coaxing my eyes open. Now having regained my consciousness, my mind registered the sweet scent that filled the air.

Pancakes.

I jolted out of bed, rushing into the kitchen, a brilliant smile plastered on my face.

Beck met my fervent expression with a lighthearted smirk. "I see that the alarm clock worked this morning."

I chuckled, grabbing my seat at the table and pouring an avalanche of syrup on the mountain of pancakes before me. "If the smell of pancakes was my alarm clock every morning, I would be the happiest girl in the world."

"Hold on there"-Beck seized the syrup bottle from me-"Don't want to spoil the day with a sugar rush."

I mocked a pout. "Please, it would be the highlight of my day."

"Not looking forward to the Selection?" He queried, genuinely puzzled.

My mouth, full of food now, pressed together in contemplation.

"I wouldn't say that, but it's all really just formalities. I don't plan on being there long."

Beck swallowed a mouthful of pancakes. "What happened to the fighter I know?"

I rolled my eyes. "I'm fighting for my family's well-being, not the marriage of a Prince I don't know. And with my promotion and the check we just received, we're well on our way to the future we've always wanted."

"Adeline, I want for you to fight for the future you want."

"What does that mean?"-I paused to raise my eyebrows at him-"I want the future for the family."

His thick, dark brows knitted together. He swiveled to face me, peering into my eyes with a narrowed expression, churning with concern. "Ad, I know you care about us very much, but don't you ever wonder what it would be like to do something for yourself? Have a life outside of the family? Find love? Find your passion?"

I shot him a quizzical look.

"I find love and passion in my family," I replied indignantly, focusing back on the plate of pancakes.

"Adeline, you know what I mean," He sighed. "I want you to find love in a partner."

I almost laughed. "And you think that the Selection would do that for me?"

"I think that you should keep an open mind."

I scoffed, stuffing my mouth full with gooey chunks of pancake. "Not like you follow your own advice, anyway. You've never had a serious girlfriend, well at least not that I know of."

"Adeline, I-" His words were interrupted by Elaine's squeal of delight.

My mood immediately lightened at the sight of her enthusiastic surprise, an affectionate grin lifting up the corners of my mouth. Elaine rushed over to hug us both from behind, a fond chuckle vibrating throughout Beck's body.

"Oh my God. Thank you so much," Elaine praised. "Pancakes are my favorite food in the whole world."

I smiled, burrowing a firm peck into her temple and inhaling the scent of her hair. The familiar essence of delicate rainfall on pavement swathed my senses, fresh and comforting.

"Good thing, because they're mine too," I cooed, tousling her frizzy mess of chestnut brown hair, and handing her a plate. "But since Beck is basically the best chef in Illéa, don't expect every pancake to taste as delicious as these."

Elaine feigned a frown, bits of her breakfast almost spilling out of her mouth. I laughed reverently. She was so much like me.

"Eli! Wake up! We have a surprise for you!" Beck yelled out in the direction of the bedrooms.

"And is it an earache at this early in the morning?" Eli yawned, strolling into the room. He rubbed his eyes, squinting from the lack of glasses. "Wait, are those pancakes? We haven't had them since last Christmas!"

His face broke out in a childlike delight, wide-eyed and bright-smiled, dashing towards the kitchen countertop, but he frowned once he realized there were only one pancake left. "No fair. You guys ate them all."

"That's what you get for being a late sleeper, kiddo," Beck scolded. "No worries. I'll make more. With the money Adeline got from the Selection, we'll be able to afford to eat pancakes 'till we throw up!"

The twins giggled, probably fantasizing about actually having an excess amount of food instead of the small portions that they were used to.

"Which reminds me," Beck continued, turning to face me with a smirk. "It's almost time for your chauffeur to pick you up."

I groaned dramatically. "Ugh. Don't remind me."

* * *

Staring at my reflection in the handheld mirror that rested on the sink counter, a grimace marred my already flawed complexion. I straightened my back from my hunched position. Bringing the mirror up against my face, I squinted to scrutinize all of the blemishes in my splotchy foundation and smudged lipstick, ultimately throwing my hands up in surrender. I groaned at my incompetence of applying makeup, wishing that I had remembered how to do it from my ballet recitals eight years ago. Dunking my face into the the lukewarm water of the sink, I furiously scrubbed away at my face.

"You're gonna make your face red from all of that scrubbing," Beck remarked.

I lifted my face to glare at his image in the corner of the mirror. "Well a red face is better than a cakey one."

The corners of his mouth quirked upward. "Come on, let me do it."

Sighing in resignation, I closed my eyes, letting him cock my head upward. My stance loosened with every delicate circle that he rubbed into my skin with the soft fabric of the washcloth. I moved to open my eyes when he finished, but then he began to massage a cool layer of lotion across my face. I felt Beck dot foundation on various areas of my face, gently blending it into my skin. After having lined my eyes with kohl, he finished with a light tap of a brush across my cheeks and a dab of lipstick in the center of my lips.

I stepped back and turned to admire his handiwork in the mirror.

"Where did you learn how to do this?" I questioned, in awe of the perfection that matched the makeup of my application day, even though Amelia was a professional and Beck obviously wasn't.

I was even more confused when a blush crept up on his cheeks.

He shrugged. "Someone at the restaurant taught me."

I raised an eyebrow, but didn't proceed to ask questions.

Setting the mirror on the counter, I stepped back a few feet, struggling to check my Selected uniform in the tiny reflection. Attempting to neaten my presentation, I adjusted the collar of my cream blouse and smoothed the wrinkles of my black trousers. But despite pristine clothes and impeccable makeup, I still exuded a disheveled presence with the nervousness that clouded my eyes. I inhaled a deep breath. I'll probably be home soon, I thought to myself, Then we will have the life we've always dreamed of.

Beck shot me a reassuring smile as he looped his arm through mine, leading me to the front of the house where Eli and Elaine were waiting. Greeting them with a bittersweet smile, I bent down to lace up my favorite- and only- pair of scruffy black combat boots. I looked up to see Elaine pinning the Lakedon Province flower on the left pocket of my blouse.

Inhaling the sticky sweet scent of the apple blossom, I took her shoulders and crushed her against me. "Whenever I smell apples, I'll always think of home."

"Just don't eat them okay? Don't need to break out in hives just because you miss us too much."

I rolled my eyes. Elaine was always so protective, even towards her elders. She probably got that from me. "I promise, only if you guys swear to write to me."

Eli's face brightened. "Are you kidding me? With all of that money, we'll get a textgraph instead! I heard they're coming out with ones that go on your finger, like a ring. Then we'll be able to gram you whenever we want, and not have to wait for a letter in the post."

Laughing, I squeezed Eli into the hug. He pretended to squirm against me, but quickly gave up, his mop of light auburn hair falling onto my shoulder. Its silky texture comforted my neck with a cool cushion.

A solid hand gripped my other shoulder. I lifted my face from the pillow of their heads, and sighed.

"You two behave okay? And don't forget to take care of this one too." I flicked my head to the side towards Beck as he wrapped his arm around my waist.

"We promise," They chorused.

With that, Beck and I exited the front door to face a bombardment of flashing camera lights, and interviewers and neighbors alike, swarming the entire length of the sidewalk. The parade stretched for blocks on either side of the house. I smiled politely at their shouts of congratulations, trying to ignore the buzzing chatter directed at me from the interviewers. Beck took a protective stance in front, pushing through the crowd to get to the nearest trans.

I ducked into a slight curtsy when I spotted by the Mayor of the Province waiting at my trans car. "Good Morning, Mr. Mayor. It's an honor to be graced with your presence."

"The pleasure's all mine, Lady Adeline." The Mayor dipped into a respectful bow. "May I speak for all of Lakedon, that it is an honor to have such a respectable young lady representing our Province."

I shifted with unease. No one ever regarded a lowly Six with such formality. But then I remembered that I was technically a Three now. And I could possibly raise my caste even further.

"Get used to it, Lady Adeline," Beck whispered into my hair.

My mood lifted with Beck's familiar humor. I hid a smirk behind a courteous smile, dismissing the Mayor. "Thank you again, Mr. Mayor, but I'm afraid I'm on a timed schedule."

"No worries, Lady Adeline. I will leave you to your salutations, and wish you the best of luck in the Selection."

The Mayor retreated into the crowd of interviewers, leaving Beck and myself alone at the trans platform.

Well, kind of.

I desperately wanted to throw my arms around him, and collapse into his embrace with bawling tears, but I was acutely aware of all of the expectant faces turned in our direction, and the blinding lights capturing our every move.

Sighing, I settled on giving him a half hug. He murmured his last remark as we parted.

"You'll win your battle, Adeline."


End file.
